He Who Saw Black
by MyDancingShadow
Summary: Night after night, Trunks is haunted by a bitter sweet dream. Possible TrunksXOc. This story is being experimented with, so no guarantees.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - Point out any mistakes you see please. This is my first DBZ fanfic. So I hope it turns out ok. I'm a bit nervous about it and I'd REALLY like some feedback. Any kind is welcome, even if it's bad. As long as you tell me whats wrong with it. Thank you.**

He shot up in his bed, fist clinging desperately to the sheets below him. Sweat beads roll down his body as the room lit up for a split second, a deafening crashing sound following shortly after. He gasped for the air he needed, feeling as if it were sucked out of his sleeping body. The gasping slowed to an almost normal poise as he pressed the back of his hand to his damped forehead. He turned and looked out the window, his room lit up once more, leading the loud crashing that followed suit. He watched the branch outside his window, bobbing to and fore as the rain and wind pounded down from the heavens. He sighed softly before scooting to the edge of the bed, resting his face in his hands. He opened his eyes and glared through the space in between his figures, down at the pillow that had, at one point during the night been throw across the room, resting silently on the blue rug that spread over the wooden floor. "That dream again."

"Trunks, sweetheart? Are you feeling alright?" The blue haired women, who was currently leaning against the counter holding onto a mug of piping hot coffee. Trunks sighed as he plopped himself down on one of the few chairs placed around a small round table. "Trouble sleeping?" She questioned, sitting down across him, carefully sitting her mug on the trouble. "You could say that," the lavender haired boy says, propping his elbow on the table and resting his tired head in his hand. Bulma gave her son a worried frown, as she rested her chin in her hand. "Tell your mama what's the matter, son." Trunks blushes at the title his mother gave herself. He pushed the thought back, deciding it was not important. "I've been having a reoccurring dream," looking over at his mother, taking in her concerned expression. She opened her mouth, pausing for a moment to think. "A nightmare?" She asked, straining her back to lean closer to her beloved son, preparing herself for what she was about to hear. She expected the half Saiyan to tell her about some sort of scary dream, possibility involving past events that would mentally scar any normal soul. However, she witnessed a blush spread over his checks, hearing a nervous stutter, followed by a cough. "Well… um… not exactly," he mutters rubbing the back of his neck, which began to form sweat. Bulma raised her aging eyebrow, before her lips flicked into a knowing smirk. "Ah, I get it; been having a dream about a girl. I knew it was only a matter of time," she remarks leaning back in her chair and shaking her head, as Trucks, nearly falling from his seat, spout confused stutter of words. His checks burning with the embarrassment caused by his mothers comment. "M-mother!" He finally managed to crack out after getting to his feet. Bulma merely surges her shoulders and takes a sip of her

coffee.-_Eyes slowly drift open, the light from the moon, bright and elegant, broke through the thick trees and high weeds. The moon almost engulfs the entire sky, making little room for the tiny sprinkling stars. The boy lies there, staring at the sky, not a thought entering his clouded mind: not a sound made by his motionless body. The scenery was beautiful, extraordinary; lush trees and bushes, circling around the boy, creating a dome like shape around him. A small, almost perfectly round clearing in the center, allowing a full view of the moon. The stars peeks from the trees, making it look as if small lights were implanted in the bush. To set the scenery in place, a tinging sound was echoing throughout the forest; it had a rhythm, creating a soothing melody. The boy lying in the heart of the clearing ignored the sound at first, not thinking, or hearing. However as it continued to grow in velocity, the boys attention was brought to it, curiosity was peeked. He rose from his laying position, glancing around; it was hard to tell which direction it was coming from, the echoing the sound made caused it to sound as if it were all around him. He spun around, continually, desperately trying to figure out the direction, as it became louder and clearer. A voice seemed to grow with it, beautiful and passionate; however undistinguishable, but still the most magnificent sound the boy has ever heard. His heartbeat increased as the music overflowed his senses. He spun faster, taking steps as he look behind every tree, every bush; suddenly, He stopped. A shadow caught his peripheral; he stood, frozen at the creature before him; his mouth gaped open as he watched it, sway and twirl in tune with the melody. His heart beat continued to increase as he gaze at it; it's hair hanging so low it nearly touched the ground and looked almost as if made of feathers from the most luscious bird. It was black, fading lightly at the very tips. It swirled around the creature's bare body as it moves: no, glides about. The boy, unable to suppress his tremendous fascination, drew his shaking arm up, reaching out to the divine being; taking in sharp breaths. He takes a few unsteady steps toward his interest. Reaching up further; his finger tips merely a few inches away; he was seconds from touching that long flowing hair, the being spun around suddenly, music halting as she does this. The boy frozen in place, he gasped in surprise, before silence overcame the entire forest. The being closed its arms over its chest, grasping its face, whimpering could be heard radiating from the trembling body. Sympathy showing in the boys eyes, he begun to open his mouth to voice his reasoning. However, his eye widened as he hung his mouth opened, trying to speak, but finding it impossible. He attempted to reach his hand to his face, finding his body, too, is unable to function. He looked at the creature, fear replacing the sympathy that was there moments ago. Suddenly, a high pinched wail echoed throughout the forest. The creature looks up, it's face hidden in a black shadow, it's hair flawed out as it lounged forward, the forest wilting behind it as every time turned black. _


	2. Chapter 2

"I want you to go to the market."

"Yes mother."

"Get some milk."

"Gotcha."

"Oh and don't forget the bread." Trunks waves over his shoulder to indicate to his mother that he had heard her. He gracefully kicked himself off the ground and hovered in the air for a few seconds before taking off towards town. Bulma stands at by the door, leaning against the frame, waving at Trunks receding back.

He lands not too far from his destinations with a light 'tap' of his shoes, looking around at the city, amazed at the progress that had been made since his last visit. Most of the buildings were either still crumbled to the ground, or skeletons of what they will soon be; it was still a big improvement considering how it was only weeks ago. He also notices that the gloomy, dark atmosphere has lifted slightly, ever so slightly. Trunks begin his advances towards his destination, smiling at the weak people around him; some would offer him a weak smile in return, others simply deciding to ignore him. He finally reached the door to the small, new and improved, shop. He opened it, sounding off the small bell hanging over the door.

Trunks walked toward where he knew the milk was kept refrigerated. He saw an elderly woman standing not too far from him, holding onto a broom, swinging it back and forth over the old concrete floors. "Morning!" Trunks greets raising his arm up in a half wave. The lady looks up from her sweeping duties to glance over at the young man. "Good morning, Trunks; doing some errands for your mother?" She asks with a kind smile spread across her pale wrinkled face. "Yup, she's got me running around doing all the things she's too lazy to do," he says jokingly. "I wouldn't let you're mother hear you say that if I were you," the woman replies in a teasing tone. Trunks let out a hardy laugh. "Never, she'd have my head for sure," he says before continuing to laugh. The woman only laughs, shaking her head as Trunks returns his attention back to his errands. He opened the refrigerator that held the milk, grabbing a carton and walking back towards the front of the store, also grabbing a loaf of bread on his way up. He approached the counter and smiled at the man behind it. "Hey, son, how are you doing this fine day!" The man exclaims as he fished out a brown paper bag to put the two items in. "Just fine, sir," Trunks replies reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small blue bag. The man unfolds the brown bag, flattening the bottom before placing the milk, shortly followed by the bread inside. Trunks hands the man a few coins before gathering his bag and heading towards the door. "You take care," the old lady yells from the back of the store. "You too," he replies pushing the glass door open once again sparking the little bell to ring.  
He couldn't help but smile as he takes in a deep breath. His smile only growing wider as he spots two small children across the street, playing with a dirty ball; the sound of construction echoed through the city, as the people continued their work on rebuilding society. Trunks took in one last deep breath before taking a step forward, making his way to his next destination.

"Here ya go," a tall, well-built man said sitting a medium sized box down in front of Trunks. "Be careful, though, it's really heav…" The mans words were cut off as Trunks sits his brown bag on top of the box and lifts it with such ease that he looked as if he were carrying cotton. "Thank you, mom will be pleased. Have a great day," he says with a grin and a small wave, supporting the box with one hand. The mans surprised expression not once leaving his face as he managed a half wave back. Trunks walked down the street for a few minutes, enjoying the city for a moment longer before he had to take off back home. He stopped walking once he reached the little shop he visited not too long ago, deciding it was time to head back before his mother got frustrated. He bent his knees slightly, preparing to push off the ground and begin his short journey back home, however all motion halts to a stop as something black and wavy passed him; catching the corner of his eye. Long flowing black hair disappearing around a corner: time seemed to have slowed down as his wide eyes watched the faded black tips vanish from sight. His body stayed frozen in place for what seemed like an entirety. His mouth gaped open as he stared at the space he just saw the long locks of hair he knew so well. As soon as his clouded mind returns to its normal state, he pushed himself off the ground toward the direction the shadow had taken. He rounded the corner just in time to see faded tips disappear behind a closing door. He stopped running for just a moment to stare at the door, never remembering ever seeing it there before. It was a black door, with a small clouded window that had a small sign hanging from it that read, "Closed". Trunks ignored the sigh, desperate to find out who the person was, or if they were even there. He ran up to the door and pushed it open, finding on the inside a fairly large man with his back turned toward the door. The man sensed the opened door and looked over his shoulder at the pale faced youth standing there. "Can't you read!" The man snarled as he turned around to take the few steps needed to grab the handle in order to slam the door in the boys face. "But," Trunks started, holding onto the door preventing the man from closing it. He tried to find words to explain his situation, but he didn't get the chance before the man spook again. "But nothing, if you want access you'll come during opened hours," he remarked rudely, attempting to close the door once more. "What time do you open!" Trunks yelled as the door starting closing.

"6 o'clock," came the irritated reply just before the door slammed shut.

_If you notice any major errors, please let me now._


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't believe such a small trip into town wore him out so bad. Trunks felt as if his body has just gone through a hundred androids. Slowly, he pulled himself into his mother's laboratory and sat the box onto a nearby table. Bulma looked over from the machine she was working on to acknowledge her sons return. "You're finally back," she announced standing up from her squatting position. The smile that had been on her face quickly disappeared as soon as he looked at Trunks tired expression. "Trunks, are you ok? Are you feeling sick?" She asked walking up to him and putting the back of her hand on Trunks face to feel his temperature. Trunks let a slight sigh pass his lips, taking a small step back so her hand would slip off his face. "I'm fine mother, just…. Tired," he said, taking the brown bag that was on top of the box he had sat down just moments ago. Bulma gave Trunks a curious look as he turned back to take the bag into the kitchen. "Did something happen?"

Trunks froze in his steps, gripping the small bag in his muscular hand. "No, just… tired," he answered in a low, barely audible voice. The worried expression on Bulmas face only doubled in size as Trunks disappeared behind the closing door. "You're just like your father sometimes," she whispered to herself as she turned to get back to work, deciding there wasn't much for her to do for her half Saiyan son.  
Trunks quickly put away the milk and bread before walking over to the pantry and grabbing a glass. He filled it with purified water they had stored in a bottle and gulped it down. He took in a deep breath before sitting it into the sink and leaving the Kitchen. "What am I supposed to do until 6?" He muttered to himself as he made his way back to his room. "Maybe a nap will do me some good." He pulled his wooden door open and sauntered toward his bed; collapsing face down the moment he felt his mattress make contact with his knees. He turned to head to the side, opening his eyes and blowing away a strand of hair that had moved over his face. "If that dream doesn't wake me up again." He closed his eyes again, letting out a small yawn. "It most likely will."

_Blue eyes opened, immediately taking in his surroundings. It was different from before. He stood in the area he always found himself in, only this time, there was no moon, no stars, and the greenery was wilted. There were no pleasant sounds or a dancing goddess. It was just a dead forest. The boy glanced around slowly, taking a small step every now and then. He began walking faster, noticing that each step he took made no sound what-so-ever. It felt like an eternity as the boy wandered the forest before he found another clearing. He walked into the center and glanced around. It looked just like the one he started in. In fact, it might just be the same one. But he made no turns as he walked; he walked in a strict straight line. _  
_"Don't seek it!" Came a loud crashing voice. The boy jumped and spun around, searching for the source of the voice. "Don't seek it!" It came louder a second time. The boy jerked his head around, looking in all directions. "Don't seek it!" It grew louder again. It continued to shout, growing louder and louder , to the point where the boy was cowering on the ground, covering his ears and whining. "__**DON'T SEEK IT!"**_

"**STOP!" **Trunks shot up in bed once again. He gasped violently, holding his ears tightly. His eyes were wide and unfocused as he continued to gasp and shake. Moments later, Trunks felts warm sweaty hands holding his arm and his mother's voice shouting at him. But he barely recognized it; he could still hear that voice, yelling at him over and over again.

((I'll try to upload this more if i can get some more feedback. I know there might be a lot of grammar errors and what-not, but please try to over look it. I don't have a beta and i don't plan on getting on either. Thank you for reading))


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